Beast
by LostRocketC
Summary: "There's a beast in all of us. You always where and he just turned," He muttered. Sam looked at him warily. "She'll be alright?" He nodded. "She'll be fine." He said the words slow. He didn't have to look at her. He knew she didn't believe him either.Sedd


**Carly  
Part one.**

The night club bounced with the loud music that rang from the speakers that flooded the room. Sweaty bodies rubbed up on each others creating what could be discribed at a mosh-pit in the middle of the dance floor. Lights danced from wall to wall in various colors.

Carly's cheeks had turned pink with exhuastion, but she still wiggled onto the floor. Her voice was shrill from her fourth pina and her third shot. She had just seen a spectator from further away watch her closely and had decided to make the first move. If all things went according to her newly formed plan she would be having a much better night than first expected and would be getting laid.

He was good-looking. His cut reminded her of Bieber, but maybe that could lean towards the plus side. His hair was sandy and shaggy. His skin almost naturally tanned. His eyes looked gray from afar, but as she inched closer she saw they where hazel and rimmed with red. He looked nervous, which she took as a good sign.

She shimmed over to his corner and he moaned. She was slightly confused by this moan. Was it intended to be sexual? It sounded as if he were agrivated with someone. She shook it off and he began to stare into her eyes. Up close he struck her with fimilarity, but it took her a second to shake it off. Her head was begining to pound slightly. What time was it?

Carly snatched at his body and they moved as one person to the ryhthm of the music. She grinded as well as she could in her condition and giggled with her missteps. She turned to him and grabbed at his hands. She made his slender fingers touch her thin dress and finger the soft fabric. This dress was her favorite. She had won it during the compatition.

She shuttered slightly thinking about the compatition. It seemed so far away, but she knew what Sam would be doing at this very moment. Carly suddenly felt like another drink, but remembered the boy toy she had straddled inbetween her theighs.

Maybe it was the sudden thought of the compatition and the connection it brought with Sam or maybe it was that her headache had subsided, but she gave her dancing partner one more glance and grew frantic. She remembered.

"What are you doing here," She snarled. She tried to back out, but he yanked her hands and had the clasped in a firm grip with his. He rose and eyebrow before his face housed a smug smile. He pushed his mouth to her ear and whispered.

He didn't have to talk anymore. His face shadowed his words: You remember? Good.

She stuggled out of his grasp, but managed to do so. Despite her drunken condition she made her way to the exit and began to sprint across the narrow sidewalks.

Her breath shook as her heals pounded against the concret. She tired her best not to trip and fall into the deep, cold puddles left from the morning's rain, but being guided only by the dim lughting that the nearby shaddy clubs offered, she was finding it more than difficult. Carly tired to compose herself: She would be fine, well, she hoped she would. She would, right? Oh, fuck it! What did she know?

The hem of her dress began to loosen and mud splattered from deep puddles onto her calves. She took a left and turned into a narrow alley way. He wouldn't find her here. Was he even running after her? He was. That was what he had whispered: "I am going to kill you."

She went further into the alley and came across a metal fence that blocked off her one chance of escaping what now seemed like the inevenatble. She took a quick glance at the empty alley and wondered again if he had just let her be. As much as Carly would've liked to put her faith into that theory, she knew there was a slim chance that a miricle of that sort would present itself at the very moment.

She hitched up the cloth that now streached the term "dress" and more resemblied a sack and began to climb the fence. Only one leg had made it when she heard his clumsy footsteps clomp onto the ground.

It wasn't until she saw him stride up to her and snicker that she accepted her fate.

"What do you want from me," She begged. Tears began to stream down her face. What would Spencer think? She could never talk to Sam. What about Freddie?

She regretted those drinks even more when the world began to spin fiercly and she fell to the ground- right into his arms. She struggled the best she could, but he had pressed a towl to her nose which she breathed in reluctantly.

Only when her world began to haze around the edges did she get a reply.

"I need you for the monkey parade, buttercup."

And then it went black.


End file.
